


Will You Still Call Me Superman?

by scxlias



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale as Superman, F/M, M/M, Superman AU, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-14
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scxlias/pseuds/scxlias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek doesn’t know how exactly Stiles Stilinski can be an EMT.<br/>Derek doesn’t quite know how to react to him.<br/>But, even despite Stiles’ general lack of coordination and tendency to walk into things, Derek knows he can count on him in emergencies.<br/>Well, <em>Derek</em> can’t count on him, but <em>Superman</em> can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Will You Still Call Me Superman?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Week 3 of SterekShelter's Sterek Summer Spectacle - Inspired By!
> 
> This AU was inspired by the song Kryptonite by Three Doors Down
> 
> Vote for team EMMOA in [their poll](http://sterekshelter.tumblr.com/)!

> _ You stumbled in and bumped your head, if not for me then you’d be dead, I picked you up and put you back on solid ground. _

Derek doesn’t know how exactly Stiles Stilinski can be an EMT. 

Scott McCall, he understands. Scott is level headed, with a big heart and steady hands. He’s calm in high stress situations, always focused on the people he’s caring for.

Stiles is just as concerned for the people in his care as Scott is, but without any of Scott’s finesse. Stiles seems to be on a perpetual adrenaline high, his attention flitting all over the place, arms flailing when he moves like he’s not in full control of his limbs. 

Derek doesn’t quite know how to react to him. 

But, even despite Stiles’ general lack of coordination and tendency to walk into things, Derek knows he can count on him in emergencies.

Well,  _ Derek _ can’t count on him, but  _ Superman _ can. 

Superman can count on Stiles and Scott in any situation. Neither of them seem to care how dangerous it is, both men taking turns leading the way into the disaster zone. They’re always there. Superman fights a battle and saves the day, and Scott and Stiles come through after and save the people Derek couldn’t get to quite in time. 

Every time someone gets caught by falling rafters, or he’s too late to get someone out of a fire entirely unscathed, Derek can feel the guilt of it to his very core. But he’s comforted slightly knowing that Stiles and  Scott will be there to help take care of those who are injured. He chooses to focus more on that than on the number of people he couldn’t save at all. 

The thought of having someone always there to help people is comforting.

What is not comforting is the knowledge that Stiles and Scott are constantly in danger. 

Especially when Stiles is incredibly accident prone when he doesn’t have someone in his care. 

Which is how Derek finds himself clearing a burning building and then going back for Stiles. Because Stiles, calamity act that he is, is lying on his back inside the building, the floor collapsing around him and Scott at his side. 

Scott’s hands are fluttering around Stiles’ torso, like he doesn’t quite know what to do, and honestly, Derek has never seen Scott so flustered. 

He lands softly next to Scott and none too gently shoves him out of the way of a falling rafter. 

It only takes a second for Derek’s x-ray vision to tell him that the bump on the back of Stiles’ head isn’t too bad, and that Stiles’ chest looks funny because his ribs are caved in on his right side but they’re… healing? That’s weird, to say the least, but the building is coming down around them, and there’s no time for him to demand an explanation of Scott. 

Scott, who is too far away to reach them at this point, because Derek threw him clear across a hole in the floor in an effort to keep him from being hurt. 

Scott who stands up like he hadn’t just been thrown ten feet, and shouts across the room to Derek. “No hospitals. Take him to 103 East Elm Street. Apartment Five-B. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’ll explain then. Just get him there, please!” Scott all but begs and then he’s scrambling back as part of the ceiling caves in, and Derek can’t see him anymore. 

Derek stares in shock for a moment before looking down at Stiles and sighing. 

He supposes there have been weirder things. 

He is one of those weirder things, actually. 

The floor begins to tremble underneath him and he sucks in a sharp breath, willing the building to stay together for just a few seconds longer.  It gives out just as he’s gathering Stiles into his arms and taking off, and Derek has to curl awkwardly around Stiles to make sure he doesn’t get hurt anymore. 

He speeds through a hole in the roof before more of the building can come down on them and barely remembers to acknowledge the police officers,  firefighters and EMTs before he takes off into the night, keeping Stiles close to his chest. 

It takes him far longer than it should to find the address Scott gave him, because he’s panicking in a way he hasn’t in a very long time, his vision flickering to x-ray accidentally more than once on the trip. It takes him too long to refocus each time. 

He feels like he did when he was first learning to control his powers. Stiles was always a constant. He and Scott were always there, always, always safe, always helping, always taking care of people. 

Seeing Stiles broken and unconscious in his arms is shaking Derek more than he cares to admit. 

But he’s Cal-El. He’s Derek Hale. He’s Superman. He is the man from the stars, the man that the people of Beacon City look up to. 

He is a superhero, dammit, and he is going to help Stiles, because it’s what he does. 

He refuses to admit that he’s helping this time because the idea of losing Stiles scares him, even though he hardly knows the guy. 

Apartment 5-B is a decent sized apartment in a nice building downtown. They don’t lock their windows, and their screens fall away easily. Derek will pay to have that fixed later. 

Right now, he’s not worried about fixing the window screen though. 

He’s worried about fixing Stiles. 

Stiles, who is finally beginning to stir. 

Stiles, who shouldn’t be moving. 

Derek may be of another world, but he still knows humans, still grew up with them. 

He knows that when humans hit their heads as bad as Stiles did, they don’t tend to be very active. 

They really don’t move much at all. 

Derek remembers one time when he and his adoptive human sisters Laura and Cora were children, and Cora hit her head while they were playing. Derek didn’t understand, because he did that all the time and just kept going, but Cora was in bed for a while. Their mother called it a concussion. 

If the lump on the back of Stiles’ head was anything to go by, then Stiles should have a concussion too. He shouldn’t be struggling this hard to get away from Derek.

Belatedly, Derek realizes that Stiles must be a little freaked out, because he passed out in a burning building with Scott at his side. 

He’s waking up with Superman holding him close to his chest and hovering in the middle of the living room of what Derek is assuming is Stiles’ apartment. 

Derek is quick to put Stiles down after that little revelation, laying him down on the couch and backing away. 

“Stiles?”

“How do you know my name?” Stiles asks, looking around in confusion for a moment before his gaze settles on Derek and…

Shit. 

Stiles’ eyes are glowing gold. 

Derek takes a step back in surprise. 

“You’re Superman,” Stiles says dumbly. 

Derek nods. “I’m Superman.”

“So that’s how you know my name. Where’s Scott?”

“I don’t know,” Derek answers honestly, watching Stiles carefully. 

Stiles tilts his head to the side and stares at Derek’s chest for a moment. 

“Your heart’s in a funny spot and you have a fuck ton of things in there,” he gestures to Derek’s body, “that I definitely do not have.”

“What?” Derek asks, confused. Stiles must be delirious. No human would be able to tell where his heart is unless…

Just to be sure, Derek takes a look at Stiles’ chest again, narrowing his eyes so he can look through Stiles’ skin to what lies beneath. His internal organs are entirely human, and Derek is a little stumped. 

He’s so confused by Stiles’ comment that he almost doesn’t notice Stiles’ ribs as he draws his vision back. 

His ribs are totally healed. They’re crooked and can’t be comfortable like that, but they’re healed. 

“Scott’s here,” Stiles says suddenly, and Derek’s vision refocuses to normal in an instant. 

“Scott’s not…” Derek trails off, because Stiles is actually right. Scott is racing up the stairs to the apartment. How did Stiles hear that before Derek did?

Scott bursts in a few seconds later, and Derek just wants to know what is going on now, because he knows no human can run that fast. 

“Stiles!” Scott exclaims. 

“Scotty! Superman broke into our apartment.”

Derek huffs, indignant. “I did not--”

“He didn’t,” Scott cuts him off. “Well, technically he did, but with my permission. I told him to bring you here. You hit your head in the building and I could get you out, but he could.” 

Stiles pales a little, and looks down at his chest. “I tripped and I… I got crushed under a support beam.”

“I got the beam off of you, but I couldn’t get you out before the floor caved in. Superman got me over the hole in the floor and got you out of the building.”

“Which means he saw me heal,” Stiles hisses, like Derek can’t hear him. 

Derek sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

If he could get headaches, he’d have one now. 

“Will one of you two tell me what the hell is going on? How did your ribs heal so quickly? Humans don’t do that.”

“Well you see, I think that fire must’ve… you know what? Smoke inhalation. That is a surprise that it can get to Kryptonians too, but you learn something new every day. You must be a little loopy from smoke inhalation because my ribs were nev--”

“We’re werewolves,” Scott cuts Stiles off, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Scott!” Stiles shrieks indignantly. 

“It’s not like he’ll tell anyone, right?” Derek shakes his head in response. “See? He’s probably got a secret identity. He gets it, Stiles. No one’s gonna find out about us or the pack.”

“There are more of you?” Derek asks, one eyebrow cocked. 

Scott nods wordlessly and looks up at Stiles, his expression turning worried when he sees how Stiles’ face is pinched with pain. 

“Look dude, Superman, uh, should we call you Cal-El? I don’t really know what the protocol is here.” 

“Cal is fine,” Derek answers, watching Stiles carefully. 

“Okay, good, Cal. Yeah, there are more of us. Lots more. We have a pack. I am the Alpha. I will answer any questions you have. We both will.” Scott ignores the glare Stiles shoots at him. “But first I need you to re-break Stiles’ ribs so we can set them and he can heal properly. Can you do that?” 

Scott looks like he does during a disaster now, his jaw set, his expression deadly serious, eyes focused. 

“Scott, Scotty, bro you know I love you, but I really don’t like you right now,” Stiles mutters as he slowly lowers himself down so he’s lying flat on the couch. 

“You’re the one who dragged us out into the backwoods of Gotham City, bro,” Scott snaps back, though there’s no heat in his voice. 

“Like I was supposed to know the Wolf would be out that night. Not my fault Batman couldn’t do his fucking job and get that psycho off the streets.”

“Shut up and let Superman break your ribs.”

“I hate you sometimes, Scott.”

Scott gives Stiles a half grin and grips his shoulder, careful not to jostle him too much. “You don’t hate me. This is for your own good. And if you put up a fight, I will tell the pack about the night with the butt tattoo and the straw hat.”

Stiles’ glare is absolutely murderous. “You wouldn’t.”

“Or I could tell them about the time you ran around in nothing but pink undies singing Spice Girls songs.” 

“Okay, fine! I’m not really mad. Really bro? You had to go there in front of  _ Superman? _ ” Stiles rolls his eyes at Scott’s smile and turns his head towards Derek. “Get on with it Super-Dude. Break my bones.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that would be incredibly suggestive if the circumstances were different. Derek is glad he can’t blush.

He looks between the two of them in shock for a moment before settling for staring at the spot on Stiles’ chest that was caved in just a few minutes ago. 

Scott follows Derek’s line of sight and squints, then rips off Stiles’ shirt, before placing his hands back on Stiles’ shoulders.

Derek has to take a second. 

Because if Stiles’ chest wasn’t marred by a little bit of blood and a large lumpy patch where his ribs were healed wrong, Derek would want to get his mouth all over him. He doesn’t need this right now, honestly. 

Derek chooses to focus on the lumpy skin that definitely should not look that way. He focuses on the way Stiles’ breath is hitching and his face is twisting in pain and Scott’s expression is becoming increasingly more concerned. 

“Make sure you don’t push so hard that the bones puncture his lungs, I don’t want him to have to heal from something else. Broken ribs are hard enough on their own,” Scott says quietly. The veins in his arms are running black.

Derek nods. “I’ll be careful.” 

He leans forward and places his hands over Stiles’ chest. 

He pushes. 

Stiles screams.

~*~

Two hours later, Stiles is totally fine. 

He looks a little worse for wear, but he’s otherwise, totally fine. 

Derek is baffled. 

Up until two and a half hours ago, he thought he was one of very few inhuman people on the planet. 

Now he knows that somewhere around five percent of the population isn’t human. 

He really wants to know if Diana Prince knows this. He thinks Wonder Woman probably knew this. 

He’s gonna have to talk to her the next time he sees her. 

He stays for much longer than he should, Scott even orders them a pizza (or five, werewolves eat a lot apparently), and asks so many questions he loses track. 

Stiles and Scott answer all of them. 

Stiles watches Derek the whole time, but looks away every time Derek looks back at him. 

Strange. 

By the time he’s leaving, he’s got both of their phone numbers and he’s promised to call them if he needs help (“you’d be surprised what we can handle bro”) and he’s arranged to pay to fix their window screen.

He’s about to dive out the window again when Stiles speaks up. 

“I guess it’d be kinda inappropriate to ask Superman to go get coffee with me, right? I mean you probably get that from all the people you save, and we don’t know your secret identity, but you know, I guess if you wanted to, I mean, it’s an offer,” Stiles rushes out. It seems like he doesn’t stop for air once.

Derek’s chest feels tight because he  _ wants _ . He really, really does. 

But he can’t.

“I’m sorry Stiles. I would if I could,” he says, voice small. 

Stiles shrugs, and tries to hide the way his face falls. Derek knows that rejection stings, but he can’t help this. 

Superman can’t go on a coffee date and he can’t reveal who he is, no matter how much he likes Scott and Stiles.

“I get it, bro. You got a whole world to save.”

“I’ll see you,” Derek says, and then he’s out the window, and his whispered ‘I’m sorry’, is lost to the wind.

~*~

“Hale!” Allison Argent shouts his name as soon as he walks into the Daily Planet office that next day. 

Derek groans and shoves his glasses further up his nose. 

Erica laughs at him. “How’d you piss off the boss lady this time, Der?” she taunts, and Isaac joins her in laughter.

Derek scowls at them both. 

“I didn’t piss her off. You know she’s like that all the time.” 

Erica sighs and spins her chair back around to face her laptop. Her long, red nails clack against her keyboard as she types. 

“You take the fun out of everything, Der-bear.”

“Hale!” Allison shouts again.

“Run,” Boyd mutters. 

Derek rushes to get to Allison’s office. 

Allison doesn’t even wait for Derek to shut the door before starting. 

“You’re big on the Superman story, right Hale?” It’s rhetorical. Everyone in the office knows he’s always got the best stories on Superman, and he’s always got good photos to go along with them. “He pulled an EMT from a burning building last night. The guy hasn’t talked yet, and he’s promised to talk to one of our reporters first as a favor to me. Get your ass to his place for ten o’clock.”

It’s 9:34.

“103 East Elm. Five-B. Go, Hale.” 

Derek takes that as a dismissal, and runs. 

The elevator doors closing behind him shuts out Erica’s laughter. 

~*~

He makes it to the apartment with two minutes to spare because traffic was a bitch and it’s only then that he panics. 

He has to go in there and interview Stiles like he has no idea who he is, no idea what he is. 

He has to pretend he didn’t break Stiles’ ribs last night to help heal him. 

He has to pretend he’s not Superman. 

_ Pretend you’re not Superman. You’re not him. Not now. You’re Derek Hale. You’re a reporter. You’re here because Allison sent you. You’re not Superman right now. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. _

He repeats it until his breath comes easier and he can bring himself to knock on the door. 

He’s two minutes late now. 

Scott answers the door. “Oh hey!” he says, bright smile spread across his face. “You must be the guy Ally sent over. Derek, right? Come on in. Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea? I know Ally’d kill me if I gave one of her guys a beer while he was working, but if you won’t tell, I won’t either.” 

Scott laughs and turns towards the apartment’s tiny kitchen. 

“Water’s fine, thank you.” 

Scott pulls a glass from a cabinet and shakes his head. “Oh, I’m Scott by the way, Scott McCall.” 

_ Yeah, I know that, _ Derek thinks.

“It’s nice to meet you Scott.” And then he plays dumb. “So is it you or your partner that I’m going to be interviewing today?” 

Scott hands Derek a glass of water with a smile. “Oh, no, you’re gonna be talking to Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. My partner. Hang on.” He turns towards the short hallway. “Stiles! Come on! Ally’s guy is here!” Scott calls loudly. Derek knows he doesn’t have to, but Scott doesn’t know that Derek knows that. 

“I’m coming!” Derek hears Stiles’ voice from further in the apartment. 

There’s a clatter and crash and Stiles curses. 

His voice is coming closer. 

“Scotty, I broke a glass. Remind me to clean that up before I--” he cuts himself off as soon as he walks into the room. “Holy shit, you’re Superman.”

The glass Derek was holding shatters on the floor. His eyes go wide with panic and he freezes, because he’s never dealt with this before. No one’s ever figured it out before. 

“W-What?” is all he can manage in response.

“Do you really think the glasses are fooling anybody, dude? I mean, come on! And your heart! Your heart’s in the wrong spot! Your heart is in the wrong spot and you’ve got all those organs I didn’t understand last night! You’re Superman!”

“Oh fuck,” Scott mutters behind him, surprised. “Stiles’ right.”

Derek hangs his head and draws in a deep breath. His chest feels tight again, even though there’s no way there’s anything wrong with him. 

He reaches up and takes the glasses off his face, messes up his hair a little, tugs the collar of his shirt to the side a little, showing off the suit underneath. 

“Yeah. He is,” Derek whispers. 

“Holy shit!” Stiles exclaims. “Ally has known Superman this whole fucking time? This is crazy, Scotty! Your girlfriend has been bossing  _ Superman _ around for  _ months _ , dude. That is insane!” 

And of course, that is what shocks Derek the most. “Allison is your girlfriend?” he asks. 

Stiles cocks an eyebrow at him and flails his arms a bit. 

“Dude! You’re freaking Superman, and you’re more concerned about the fact that Ally and Scott are dating? That’s what you’re focusing on right now?!” 

Derek shrugs. “That’s new information to me. Me being Superman is new information to you. We’ve got different priorities right now,” he jokes with a smirk. 

Stiles makes a noise of disbelief and Scott guides him to the living room. 

They end up just like last night, only Derek is the one answering questions this time. 

He tells them everything he can remember, from being sent her from Krypton right up until the fire last night, tell them how he came into his powers, how he learned to control them, how he came to trust the two of them because they were always there to help him. 

Allison calls as they’re finishing up and Scott has to talk to her so she doesn’t read Derek the riot act for taking so long, leaving Derek and Stiles alone. 

“So,” Stiles says, studying Derek intently. 

Derek squirms under the scrutiny. 

“So?”

“So. Last night I asked Superman out on a coffee date. And he said no. But! Now, I’ve got Derek Hale in front of me, and he is obviously a completely different person. So, Mr. Hale. Would you like to go for coffee with me some time? When your, uh, extracurricular activities and my job aren’t causing a problem.” 

Derek rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, my ‘extracurricular activities’ will quite literally always coincide with when you have to work.”

Stiles huffs. “That is not… Fine. That is true. But that doesn’t… Derek, just let me take you out for coffee. I mean if you’re not into it like that, it can just be a friendly thing, but I… you saved my life last night, and I want to repay you somehow. I figure a date is a good way to start, right?” 

Derek smiles, and it only gets bigger when Stiles returns it. 

“You don’t owe me anything, for the record. But if you did, a date would be a great way to make it up to me.”

“Is that how you’re saying yes?” Stiles asks, hopeful. 

“Yeah. That’s me saying yes.”


End file.
